


Piggyback

by LeFay_Strent



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Cuddling, Fluffy, Humor, M/M, honestly it can be either platonic or romantic, moxiety - Freeform, platonic, romantic, sleepy patton is so fun to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 15:03:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17003904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeFay_Strent/pseuds/LeFay_Strent
Summary: Volume set low, the tv played a cartoon Virgil didn’t recognize, so he figured Patton had found something new and ended up binging it late into the night.“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Virgil asked, smirking a bit at the irony of him asking such a question.“….nooo?” Patton answered subdued, pulling the blanket laying over him up to hide the lower part of his face.





	Piggyback

**Author's Note:**

> Posted this on tumblr, thought I'd post it here too. Inspired by sandersfanders who said that every time they see "Moxiety" they picture Virgil giving Patton a piggyback ride.

Virgil only meant to get a snack from the kitchen. It was that time of night when not even the sounds of cars passing by could be heard, only a chorus of crickets and the distant echo of a train droning out a faded cry. Everyone was sound asleep in their beds, or they should have been at least.

Don’t look at him like that. Virgil was an exception. The rules of standard sleep did not apply to him, and what better time was he going to watch conspiracy theory videos other than the dead of night?

Anyway, this wasn’t about him.

“Patton?” Virgil asked, leaning over the couch as much as he dared to peek at the curled up form there.

“Hm?” the form stirred, blinking up at Virgil slowly behind slightly crooked glasses. 

The only light in the living room came from the streetlight outside the windows and the television. Volume set low, the tv played a cartoon Virgil didn’t recognize, so he figured Patton had found something new and ended up binging it late into the night.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Virgil asked, smirking a bit at the irony of _him_ asking such a question.

“….nooo?” Patton answered subdued, pulling the blanket laying over him up to hide the lower part of his face.

“You sound a little unsure there, Pat,” Virgil teased. 

“I’m not Pat,” he mumbled into the cover, or at least that’s what Virgil thought he heard. He raised a brow.

“You’re not Pat?”

“Mm.”

“Then who are you?”

“I could be Logan,” Patton protested childishly.

Virgil snorted. “Hate to break it to ya dude, but you’re like, nothing alike.”

“We wear the same glasses …”

“So that makes you totally alike?”

“Mm-hm.”

“I don’t think it works like that, buddy.”

“I know big words too … I could be Logan.”

“I don’t think Logan would talk about himself in third person.” 

“I could talk about you in third person …” Patton said, trailing off. He gazed at the animated characters on screen, but his drooping eyelids said he wasn’t taking much of it in. Virgil was so used to seeing Patton’s bright, cheery self, that this quiet, stubborn side was amusing.

Virgil folded his arms against the top of the couch, leaning his weight on them. He stared down at Patton. “You’re tired,” he stated, as if it wasn’t obvious. And maybe to Patton it wasn’t.

“Am not,” he denied. “You’re the one … who’s tired.” His brows pinched together like he was having trouble following the conversation. His voice sounded weak and thick with sleep, and Virgil had never been able to take Patton less seriously than now.

“I’m not one for telling others how to live their lives,” Virgil began nonchalantly. “But if Logan finds you passed out here in the morning, you know he’s going to lecture you about the importance of maintaining a healthy circadian rhythm or whatever.”

“I’ll fight him,” Patton said so emphatically that Virgil nearly laughed out loud. “I’ll kick all of my feet at him.”

“Unless you’ve been hiding something from us, you only have two feet.”

“It looks like I have more if I wave them really fast.”

Virgil actually did laugh out loud this time. It was a soft chuckle, yet it called Patton’s attention to him. He looked up at him with sleepy brown eyes and Virgil really couldn’t take much more of this.

He shook his head and pushed away from the couch to go turn off the tv. Patton whined but can’t even muster the energy to reach for the remote on the coffee table to do anything about it.

“C’mon Pat, let’s get you to bed,” Virgil said, walking back to the couch. 

Patton buried his face in his pillow, hiking the blanket up over his head. Virgil swore he heard a muffled, “They’ll never take me alive.”

“Patton,” Virgil groaned. He wasn’t used to being the one to do … _this_ kind of thing. But Patton didn’t know his own limits sometimes, and the others weren’t around to deal with it. Logan surely would have been able to talk sense into him. And Roman, well he’d probably just carry Patton up to his room, but Virgil lacked the upper arm strength for that.

“Carry me,” Patton requested, still under the blanket.

“I’m not Roman,” Virgil deadpanned. Seriously, we just went over this.

“The floor is lava,” Patton declared.

“Patton, if you don’t go to bed, I … I’ll start talking bad about myself!”

Slowly, eventually, the cover drew back to reveal a face. Patton’s eyes squinted up at him, seeing how serious Virgil was as he stood there, hands on hips. “That’s not nice.”

“Never claimed to be.”

Patton pouted. “Not even just a piggyback ride?”

Was Patton seriously asking this? Was this a thing that was happening right now? Virgil covered his face with a hand, wondering if it was too late to forget he saw Patton and return to getting his snack before fleeing to his room.

“A piggyback ride,” Virgil stated, just to be sure that Patton was for real.

In answer, Patton raised his arms expectantly. If it had been anyone else, _anyone_ , Virgil would have walked away.

It just had to be Patton.

Virgil sighed and perched on the edge of the couch for him. “If it’ll get you to go to bed, then whatever.”

Knowing Patton, he would have thought he’d hear more excitable squeals or laughter. Maybe a cheer or two at least. However, all was quiet as Virgil felt movement behind him, Patton no doubt crawling out from under the blanket. Arms slid over his shoulders, and suddenly there was a weighty warmth pressed against his back and Virgil was hyper aware of Patton’s face nuzzling into his neck.

Virgil had to remind himself to breathe.

It was just … he didn’t expect to _feel_ so much, like Patton was everywhere and it was a lot to process, and he knew he offered to do this, but somehow imagining doing this in his mind nowhere near compared to the real thing, which was weird because Virgil hadn’t even lifted him up yet. They were still on the couch, Patton basically hugging him from behind and—had Virgil never been hugged from behind? Or maybe he had and it’d just been too quick to really register the feeling, because right now—

“Kiddo?” Patton hummed in confusion.

Virgil snapped out of his thoughts. Okay, so maybe he was a little overwhelmed here but he didn’t have to show it. He moved quickly to grab onto Patton’s legs as he lifted him up. Patton’s arms rested firmly against his clavicles, careful to stay low enough and not choke him. His thighs gripped around Virgil’s waist, and Virgil couldn’t help but think how bizarre the feeling was, having Patton hanging off of him like some sleepy koala.

“Just, uh, hang on tight,” Virgil grunted and took off towards the stairs. The room was cast in shadows, and usually Virgil was pretty good at navigating through the dark, but he was rather distracted by the sound of Patton’s breathing by his ear. It wasn’t heavy or anything, just gentle puffs of air that kind of tickled in a way that shot down Virgil’s spine and make his nerves all jittery.

They climbed the stairs, and was it just Virgil or were there more steps than usual? Patton wasn’t the lightest person to carry, but it wasn’t like Virgil was being winded or anything. It’s just … It was like one of those dreams where your body feels like its wading through water, having to put more effort into each step, and everything around you is passing in slow motion.

It was fuzzy in a mesmerizing way. Patton’s warmth wrapped securely around him, and step-by-step Virgil carried him to bed. Virgil was carrying Patton to bed, and the notion seemed far too strange in that moment, like everything didn’t feel quite as real as the warmth seeping into him.

“… you’re best …” Patton murmured something, words too slurred together for Virgil to really make out.

“I’m what?” Virgil asked. He made sure to keep his voice barely above a whisper as they had reached the top of the stairs, and he’d be damned if they woke up one of the others and they saw him like this.

“You’re best boy,” Patton said more clearly, yet still sounding on the edge of sleep.

Virgil dismissed it as sleepy delirium. “Okay, Pat.”

“The bestest boy,” Patton went on, rubbing his face into Virgil’s shoulders. He kept mumbling half formed compliments, and Virgil would have tried to convince himself that Patton was so unaware that he could be talking about anybody if his name wasn’t mixed in a few times. Virgil found it hard to respond after that.

They finally made it to Patton’s bedroom, and with some careful maneuvering, Virgil nudged the door open. It was touch and go there for a minute, since Patton’s room looked like a mini-tornado had torn through it (the tornado’s name might have been Patton). Virgil nearly tripped more than once on the bits and bobs littering the floor and he had to bite back more than a few curses.

When they reached the bed, Patton didn’t show any signs of letting go. Virgil turned and sat them down.

“C’mon, Patton. Train’s reached its destination. Time to disembark.”

It really wasn’t fair the way that seemed to make Patton snuggle against his back all the more.

Virgil just sat there a minute, not knowing what to do. It’s not like he was intentionally delaying the inevitable so that he could soak in the feeling of arms wrapped around him and a chest pressed firmly to his back. No, that’s just what was happening in the meantime as Virgil contemplated having to physically detach Patton from himself. He had a feeling that if he waited for Patton to let go himself, he’d be waiting all night.

But ya know … this wasn’t bad. Not as nerve-wracking as he thought it would be. The prolonged physical contact did make him feel antsy, but more like in a restless way? Like he couldn’t stop thinking about how he was essentially cuddling Patton, and it was bizarre because Virgil didn’t really do cuddles, because touching could sting like flames licking at his skin. But this was Patton, and even though Virgil couldn’t stop thinking about how he could _feel_ Patton, it didn’t burn and he wasn’t overly worried about when he was supposed to pull away.

He felt calm. Transfixed in this embrace.

Tired, but very much alive.

To test the waters, Virgil allowed himself to tilt to the side until he was laying down. Patton didn’t stir much other than to fix his legs more comfortably. He didn’t say anything, might not have even been awake at this point. He was content to use Virgil as a teddy bear.

Virgil laid there for a long time staring up at the window. Lines of hazy light poured through the blinds, hued in late night blue. A slow intake of air came from behind him, followed by a soft exhale, easy and unhurried. He kept pace with the breaths, let them set a steady cadence for his heart, and in the end he felt smaller for it.

Heavier.

Safer.

He closed his eyes to sleep.


End file.
